


Redamancy

by FatalViolet520



Series: Beautiful Words (beautiful you) [8]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Cooking Lessons, Day At The Beach, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Chan, Sharing a Bed, ft the rest of skz assuming theyre married, how do u get together with someone when everyone thinks ur already married, me: yes, or this would have 200k and they would have been dumb fucks, theyre very in love and everyone sees it Except For Them, ur lucky i dont have the patience to write slowburn, vague marriage proposals, woochan as parents, you: how domestic is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-02 17:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalViolet520/pseuds/FatalViolet520
Summary: "You're dating Woojin... right?"Chan looks up. "Um."(or, everyone thinks Woojin and Chan are dating, and really, they should have realised it themselves sooner.)





	Redamancy

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS FOR ALEX I LOVE U HERES THE BIGGEST HUG EVER i cant believe we've known each other for a year, i know u said we talked too much in the beginning but my counter point is that theres no such thing as talking to much, thank u for being so nice and perhaps u r the jisung to my (bastard ass) minho <3 
> 
> to everyone else, enjoy!!

[redamancy](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/redamancy)  
_noun_

the act of loving in return

* * *

The knowledge dawns on Chan slowly. It takes him days to notice that Woojin brews tea for him in the morning because he prefers tea over coffee; it takes him weeks to realise Woojin had went out of his way to pick Chan up from work, not realising the route is a little longer than the one he would usually take; it takes him months to pick up on the flowers Woojin brings back to their apartment to brighten the place up, and it’s because he likes flowers.

It takes exactly one year, two months and eleven days for Chan to realise Woojin does a lot of things he doesn’t need to do, but does them anyway because it makes him happy. The only reason Chan knows this exact date because he remembers when they moved in together, and it’s also the day he had plucked up the courage to ask _why do you do all these things_ while gesturing vaguely at the tea and flowers and hoped Woojin would get it. 

Woojin had just smiled. “It makes you happy,” He had said simply, then passed Chan a mug. He had neglected to stir the milk into the tea, and Chan was left staring into the differing browns of his tea with a slightly shocked expression. 

_It makes you happy_ , Woojin had said, and the words sink into Chan’s heart, carved into the side of his arm where his heart beats so he’ll be forever reminded of this day, this exact moment, the way Woojin’s eyes had curved and the way his lips had quirked and the way he touched his shoulder, light and reassuring all at the same time. 

“What, you didn’t realise?” Changbin had said offhandedly two days later. “Woojin-hyung’s always asking us if you’ve been okay at work, if he can drop by to give you food or something.” He sighs a little then, cupping his cheek with a hand, and looks at Chan like Chan doesn’t know he has something precious. “Not everyone has a love like yours, hyung, it’s so sweet.” 

“Oh,” Chan says, then wonders if he had been blind. 

It hadn’t been difficult then, to do things that would make Woojin happy too. When they’re ordering fried chicken, he asks for cheese to be added for Woojin’s share; when watching movies, to pick either something mellow or horror; when they have free time, to take him out to go shopping for new clothes and snoop through the discount racks. 

Perhaps he knows more about what makes Woojin happy than he had initially realised. 

“You guys are going to the beach again?” Minho asks one weekend when he swings by to say hi. “You guys always go to the beach when the holidays come. Do you guys like the beach that much?” 

Chan shrugs. “Woojinnie likes to go the beach, so we go to the beach.” 

Minho pretends to vomit, theatrical as always. “You guys are disgusting. Well, I won’t hang around and get in your way… have fun on your third honeymoon!” He shouts this last part to Woojin as well, who’s rummaging somewhere in the bedroom for something, and Woojin just yells bye back, and Chan doesn’t quite know what to make of the word _honeymoon_ or Woojin’s lack of acknowledgement to said word. 

He forgets the word when they’re driving there, blasting songs in the car and singing along, but he remembers it intermittently. He remembers it when they stop for food at the rest stops and Woojin tells him to get food first while he parks the car; he remembers it when they arrive at the beach and he reminds Woojin to put sunscreen on; he remembers it when he screams because of the cold water and Woojin just picks him up and dumps him in deeper water, laughing when he surfaces. 

Remembers it when evening approaches and Woojin looks at him, sun-soaked and salt-crusted, and says, “Let’s go somewhere else next time.” 

“What, why?” 

“We should go somewhere you wanna go to,” Woojin says, and Chan thinks there are many things to that sentence he just said. 

“Who said I didn’t wanna come to the beach?” Chan asks, laughing a little, and reaches over instinctively to brush some sand away from the highs of Woojin’s cheeks. “Why change? It’s almost like a tradition for us now.” 

“I know,” Woojin says, and his voice is low and calm like the setting of the sun into the expanse of the sea, and Chan can’t look away. “But I’d like to go somewhere you wanna go.” There’s something solid and comforting about the way he catches Chan’s wrist as Chan makes to pull away, and Chan thinks faintly that maybe in another time, he would have smiled and leaned in to kiss Woojin. 

The thought isn’t unfamiliar, and the realisation goes like _oh,_ maybe he has a _crush_ on Woojin. 

“Crush?” Felix, Chan’s cousin and fresh off the plane from Australia asks a month later. His Korean isn’t all that good yet so he’s speaking English to Chan, but it’s improving day by day, what with Chan’s friends taking an interest in Felix and taking him collectively under their wing. “Isn’t he your boyfriend? Of course you’d have a crush on your boyfriend.” 

Chan wants to say _what_ , or maybe he wants to say _but we’re not dating_ , though what comes out instead is, “Boyfriend?” And he isn’t quite sure if there’s hope in his voice. 

Felix eyes him weirdly. “Are you… not?”

“Wh - What? Are we - obvious?” 

“Oh, yeah! I mean, when we came in he greeted you and said ‘welcome back’ - that _was_ ‘welcome back’, right - and he already made tea for you and reminded you to eat lunch. You guys are so sweet… why have you never mentioned you got a boyfriend, hyung?” 

“Huh,” Chan says, then sips at the tea Felix was referring to. The tea reminds him that they’re running low on groceries and he should go shopping - and if the next thought that occurs to him is that he should tell Woojin so they can go together, well, he doesn’t vocalise it, because that’s too domestic, even for him. 

Then, it’s two months later - almost Christmas - and Woojin holds up a pamphlet to where Chan’s squinting into his laptop even though it’s only eight in the morning. 

“The others are coming round for dinner one day, aren’t they? Let’s go to a cooking class.” 

To anyone else, the sentences might have seemed completely unrelated, but Chan just looks up from his laptop screen and considers the offer for maybe two seconds before nodding. “Alright, sounds great. I’m sure the kids will love if we cook better food than last year.” 

Woojin smiles, sweet like the syrup he pours on his pancakes on Sunday morning, and leaves the pamphlet on the table. “You said kids.” 

Chan thinks maybe it’s fine to have a crush, because Woojin seems like he has one too, and really, they’ve always done everything together, at the same time. 

“You took _cooking classes_?” Jisung asks, sounding appalled when he arrives for dinner a week later. “ _Together_? What are you, married?” 

“Be nice to our parents,” Hyunjin says vaguely, coming through the door behind Jisung.

“Yeah,” Seungmin chips in, having arrived at the same time as Hyunjin. “Show some respect, they’re feeding us tonight.” 

“They feed us like every other week,” Hyunjin points out, and Chan refuses to think about what that means. 

Eventually, everyone arrives, and dinner starts. It’s jovial and as noisy as ever, everyone talking at the same time and laughing louder and louder with each story that’s shared. Sometime in the middle of dinner, Chan leans back, surveying the mess with some degree of fondness, and he would have been perfectly content to just sit back in the darkness for a while, observing, but Woojin slings an arm around his shoulders, looking over the others like him, and Chan thinks he does a very bad job at hiding the flush of cheeks. 

Woojin doesn’t say anything, but he smiles, soft and slow, eyes twinkling in the lights of the apartment, and right there, in the loudness and laughter, Chan’s never felt more at peace, and the apartment has never felt more like home. Woojin’s hand is warm around the curve of his shoulder, and he lets himself lean into Woojin’s shoulder, almost naturally, and they spend a few long minutes just looking, satisfied. 

Maybe that’s the night he realises his heart has already been taken. 

It’s taken him a long time, but now he’s sure of it. Through the times that they had napped together, lazy afternoon sunshine serving as their blanket, through the awkward slow dancing in socked feet on the tiled floor of the kitchen when they were slightly drunk and sleepy, through the nights when they had a crappy reality show on and squabbled about something insignificant, through all the times when they had come home to each other, simple dinners and quiet nights and soft music and softer blankets, Chan’s fallen in love, and there’s no one else he would have rather fallen in love with. 

The realisation is difficult to keep in him when it wants to burst past his lips and the blurry lines that they had become comfortable in, difficult to keep in when Woojin looks at him in the semi-darkness with something close to affection and adoration, and Chan thinks in another life he would have said _i love you_ easily. 

“I love you,” Chan murmurs when they’re stood hip to hip, washing the dishes, the others making a fuss in the living room. He says it when he doesn’t mean to, but the words draw like a secret over his lips, glossy and brighter than any of the stars Woojin cares to look at. 

“I know,” Woojin says, and dries the last dish that Chan passes him. “I love you too.” He puts the dish away and comes to face Chan, rosy cheeks and wide eyes, and there’s soap on his neck and an apron on and his hair is messy but god, has he ever looked this beautiful? 

Chan opens his mouth, maybe to ask _what_ , or maybe he doesn’t mean to say anything at all, and Woojin steps close, irrespective of the soap or water, and then he’s asking _can I kiss you_ and Chan’s smiling, all dimples and eyes and cheeks and he says _yes_ and Woojin dips his head close and everything else doesn’t really matter anymore. 

They stand there for minutes, for _hours_ maybe, and all Woojin knows is that time is eternal but right now, with Chan close against him, time can wait for them. The kiss is soft and warm and everything that Chan is, and it doesn’t matter that they’ve been dancing around each other for years now that they have each other like this. 

“God, were we really that oblivious?” Chan murmurs against his lips, and it sends a shiver down Woojin’s spine. 

“Dunno. The kids made me realise, though. Was waiting for you, but we got there in the end.” 

“I love you,” Chan repeats, and gold and diamonds can never compare to these words that Chan says for him and him only to hear. “I really do. All these past years, I’ve never said it but I love you, Woojin. So much.” 

“I know,” Woojin chooses to say again, because that’s what he can say, because that’s what he _knows_ , because their hearts beat in sync to match the marching of time so they can have a forever together. “I love you so much, Chan, I think you know that.” 

Chan smiles, and this time it’s smaller but just as happy, and maybe they forget that they’re pressed chest to chest, so close that they can easily kiss again, but that’s the moment Jeongin walks in for a glass of water, and everything becomes noisy all over again. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Jeongin groans, “My eyes! Why are you kissing in the kitchen? Can’t you wait until we’ve gone _home_ ? My _eyes_!” 

Chan snorts at Jeongin’s melodramatic wailing and leaves Woojin to do damage control, focusing on clearing the sink and untying his apron. The rest of the night continues to be loud, the conversation shifting from Woojin and Chan being shameless to Jeongin graduating university to some talk of a vacation together in the future. It’s almost eleven before everyone goes home, saying thank you and promising to come round again some day, hugging and exchanging goodbyes.

“How many of them do you think would believe us if we said that was the first time we kissed?” Chan asks, already half-asleep as he switches the living room lights off and slumps on Woojin’s bed. 

“None,” Woojin replies. “I still don’t really believe we’ve kissed… it took us a while.” 

“Skipped straight past dating and into marriage,” Chan teases, and for a moment, Woojin just looks at him. 

Looks, because Chan’s sleepy, rubbing at his eyes and messing his hair up, clad in a big sleep shirt and pants, looking softer with the night lamp on and the late hour, and his heart is so, so full of affection that he couldn’t stop the words from being said even if he had to. 

“I would,” Woojin says softly, and Chan looks up. “In a heartbeat.” 

“What?” Chan asks, but his ears are buzzing, knowing what Woojin’s saying. “You - we haven’t even gone on a date and you want to marry me?”

“We have,” Woojin counters, climbing into bed with Chan, “We just never called them dates.” 

“Fair enough,” Chan concedes, and pulls the covers up, ignoring Woojin’s protests of _you_ _blanket hog_. “You know, let’s go on a proper date,” He says, interrupted by a yawn and blindly searching for Woojin’s hand to hold. “We should, or it’d be funny to explain to people, wouldn’t it?” 

“Nah,” Woojin decides, turning the night lamp off. “Our next proper date is going to be at the aisle.” 

“Woojin!” Chan says indignantly, but it just sounds cute because of how tired they are, and Woojin falls asleep before he can come up with a proper retort. He remembers the faint squeeze he gives Chan’s hand, and he thinks that’s his answer for the night. 

“Love you,” Woojin thinks he says, and from a distance away, he’s almost sure he hears the same words echoed back to him, and it’s okay, he’s got a forever of dawns and dusks to make sure Chan knows he loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending was a little weird?? maybe?????? idk but i hope u like this!!!!!!!! ive been meaning to write his for absolute AGES and this idea was based off a tweet that said something like this:
> 
> “Just realised i’m probably kind of sorta dating this girl - we’ve been ‘friends’ for almost 2 years, i sleep in her bed, she cooks for me, i have a toothbrush at her place, her entire family knows me and thinks we’re dating - she takes me on road trips and invites me to cooking courses and restaurants and stuff and she always pays - i’m staying at her house next weekend"
> 
> and promptly lost the tweet so i apologise terribly for not being able to find a source and credit, but it's just a vague base!!! i hope this was enjoyable <3


End file.
